Page 57 of Choosing Hope

He reminds me of a huge, powerful panther holding its prey with an enormous, strong paw, and staring down with dominance as it decides which piece to devour first.

Watching him taking delight in his second favorite kink, seeing me covered in his ejaculation, seems to tighten the connection between us.

As always, the moment he’s finished, he rubs his semen into my skin.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t missed that,” he orders, his voice quivering with the last of his lust.

“Carlo!” I warn.

Preferring to avoid a conversation about what we’re doing here, if I allow myself to think about it too deeply, the normal darkness will creep in.

We shower quickly, both of us aware we’ll be back in here at least once before the evenings out.

As we towel off, we chat as if nothing has happened. He’s careful to keep the conversation light.

“I’m starving. I’ll make the order; I assume you want the usual?”

His question is so typical; he’s always been the caregiver. When we lived in the apartment, he regularly cooked for us when he was home.

“Yeah, great,” I agree. “Ask them to add some Tiger beers to the order, too.”

“You’re on a mission tonight,” he observes. I’ve already had five beers and six shots at the bar. His gaze slides down my naked body,and I’m sure he’s noticed the extra weight I’ve gained since I last saw him.

Neither of us has ever been a drinker. Because of the training we do to keep fit, we’ve always considered alcohol to be counterproductive, aside from the odd night out with the boys.

I used to allow myself a scotch after work sometimes. But recently, I’ve been drinking a lot more.

“It helps.” I explain.

His expression speaks a thousand words, and every one of them disagrees with me.

Instead of arguing, he hangs his towel up and stalks out of the bathroom. I study his form; there’s not an ounce of excess fat on him. He’s the honed, muscular fighter he’s spent years crafting his body into.

The reflection in the mirror catches my eye. I stare at it.

Few would deny I’m a good-looking man. But lately, I haven’t been training for such long periods, and when I go to the gym, I’m not working as hard.

Under my eyes are gray shadows, no doubt because of stress and lack of sleep. My skin appears more sallow than usual, and the definition of my abs has relaxed, leaving me with a very slight paunch.

I’m letting myself go. The realization stings until an idea hits me, and I go in search of Carlo.

He appears to be leaving a voice message.

“He’s fine. We’re fine. We’re at Parks Hotel in Spencer’s usual suite. I’ve just ordered takeout from Green Lotus. We’re going to spend the evening catching up and enjoying a few beers, alone. I’ll see you early tomorrow. I’m looking forward to spending the day with my two favorite girls and can help with Lily’s party. Ciao Bella.”

He notices me as he releases the button, holding my stare, as if waiting for me to object. I don’t; even though I have conflicted emotion about himcontacting my wife. I won’t deny it burns that she doesn’t feel able to contact me directly.

Another layer of self-loathing lodges in my gut.

“She called you?”

His tongue glides over the outside of his teeth, telling me how difficult my question is for him to answer. Carlo is the most loyal person I’ve ever met, I have no doubt he has my best interests at heart.

“I saw her earlier.”

I narrow my eyes. “Is she okay?”

He thinks for a few seconds, running his tongue along the outside of his top teeth, the way he’s always done when he’s uncertain what to say.